


I and Love and You

by mikaylawrites



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaylawrites/pseuds/mikaylawrites
Summary: A series of drabbles/one-shots chronicling times Cobert said "I love you."
Relationships: Cora Crawley/Robert Crawley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series of drabbles/one-shots based on a Tumblr prompt list I've had saved on my phone forever. Each chapter will revolve around a time Cora and/or Robert said "I love you." The prompt for this chapter is "with a hoarse voice, under the blankets."

Cora awoke from a fitful sleep, blinking in the early morning light. The ache in her lower back reminded her that she was not in her bed, or any bed for that matter. Rather, she was slouched in a hard hospital chair, grasping Robert’s hand as he slept. Mary and Edith tried to persuade her to come back to Downton to get a few hours of sleep before he woke in the morning, but she had refused, opting to change her clothes and freshen up in the hospital bathroom. If she were to sleep at all it needed to be next to him, his soft snores a reminder that he was alive. 

He wasn’t snoring anymore, and Cora realized that was what had woken her. She heard the sheets rustle as he fidgeted, felt his fingers lightly squeeze her own. 

“Cor? S’that you?” Robert was still groggy from the anesthesia, his speech slightly slurred. 

She sat up immediately, ignoring the protest of her back. “Yes, it’s me darling. I’m here.”

“Good,” he murmured, letting his eyes drift shut. Cora was sure he had fallen asleep until he spoke again. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You should be, Robert Crawley.” Her words held no bite, her voice soft. She reached out her other hand, resting it against his cheek. “But there’s need to worry about that now. I’m just glad you’re going to be alright.”

“I meant what I said, you know.” His eyes were open now, although he was struggling to keep them that way. 

She stroked his cheek as he leaned into her touch. “And what was that?”

“I have loved you very much.” His voice was so hoarse she had to lean closer to hear him. “And I love you very much now.”

Cora suddenly found herself unable to speak. A lump had formed in her throat, tears threatening to spill over. Robert seemed to understand. Of course, he did. He squeezed her hand again, running his thumb along her skin. 

“Will you get in bed with me?” Robert asked after they had both been silent for a few minutes.

“I’m not sure I can,” she smiled sadly. “I don’t want to disturb your stitches.” 

“I want you near me,” he pleaded. “I’ll sleep better that way.”

She ached to be near him too, to lay on his chest and feel the beating of his heart against her cheek. Yet she refused to do anything that would hurt him. There had to be another way. She leaned down slowly until her head and upper body were resting on the bed next to him. After a bit of shifting she found a position that did not strain her back too much, the top of her head pressed against his ribs with just enough pressure to remind him that she was there. “Is this alright, darling?”

Robert’s hand found its way to her head, gently stroking her hair. “That’s perfect,” he whispered. 

She craned her head so she could press a kiss to his side. “I love you too, Robert.” 

He did not respond and as his breath began to even out, she knew he was asleep. Cora let the steady movement of his chest soothe her. Her neck had begun to ache from the awkward angle and the twinge in her back had returned, but none of that mattered now. She had her husband and that was all the comfort she needed.


	2. too quick, mumbled into your scarf

“Come on Robert, keep up,” Cora called, gliding a few meters ahead of him on the ice. Robert had knelt down briefly to tie the laces of his skate and was now hurrying to catch up to her. 

Cora had surprised him when, after he asked if she might like to get a pair of ice skates next time they were in London, she revealed that she had brought her own with her from New York. “One never knows when they might need a thing like that,” she’d shrugged when he expressed his amusement. 

Now he found himself surprised again upon discovering that Cora was a marvelous skater, perhaps even better than him. He did not know many great ladies of the country who could skate circles around their husbands, but he did not care. Seeing her more at ease than she ever seemed inside the walls of Downton, a smile lighting up her face, was far more important than a little bruise to his ego. 

“Where did you learn to skate like that?” he asked when he reached her. They skated side-by-side now, their shoulders occasionally brushing against one another. 

“We do have ice in America, you know” she grinned. He rolled his eyes as she continued. “Father taught Harold and I to skate when we were young, and it was so popular in New York. Boys always wanted to take me skating to impress me.”

“Oh!” Robert exclaimed, eyebrows raised. “I did not know what an honor it was to be skating with Cora Levinson.”

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “It’s Cora Crawley now, and she only skates with one man.”

His heart skipped a beat at that. Even though they had been married for nearly a year, he still found himself flustered at any blatant sign of affection from her. Perhaps that would never go away. He hoped not. 

When they reached the far edge of the lake Cora turned to him, mischief in her eyes. “Let’s race.”

“Cora,” he hesitated. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” He knew his mother would be irate if she knew they were doing something that wreckless.

“Why not?” she asked innocently. “Are you afraid you’ll lose?”

She already knew how to rile him up in a way that he found incredibly charming. And, of course, she was right. He was a grown man, after all. “Alright,” he conceded. “We’ll race to that tree.” He pointed to a hawthorn tree whose branches hung over the ice. She nodded her assent. They made sure they were standing even with one another before he called out “on your mark, get set, go!”

They shot forward, arms and legs pumping furiously. Robert skated as fast as his legs would take him, but Cora was faster. He took the opportunity to admire his view, her dark hair a stark contrast against the ice, her lithe form moving gracefully. She reached the tree a good few seconds before he did, looking as if it had taken her no effort at all. He, on the other hand, was doubled over and panting as soon as he came to a stop. 

“Are you sure,” he huffed, struggling to catch his breath. “That you didn’t take boys skating to impress them?”

Cora laughed. “No, I don’t think any of their egos could have handled that.” She extended her arm, her woolen mitten reaching for his leather glove. 

He took her hand, squeezing it. “Well then, it’s a good thing my ego can take quite the beating.”

They skated leisurely for a while, trading stories back and forth. He told her about teaching Rosamund to skate when they were children, and she relayed him with the story of a particularly disastrous skating outing with the son of a railroad tycoon. Robert relished days like this, when he and Cora got to have fun together. Right now, they did not have to worry about being a future earl and countess. They could just be Robert and Cora, a young married couple in love.

Love. Robert was startled when the word crossed his mind, although this was not the first time. More and more often in the past few weeks he found that the words love and Cora mingled in his mind. He had felt so guilty when, in the early months of their marriage, she had confessed her love for him, and he told her he did not reciprocate her feelings. It pained him to reject her in that way, but it would have been worse to lie. When he told his wife he loved her, he wanted to mean it. Now, as he watched her skate next to him, her cheeks pink from the cold and her cornflower eyes bright with excitement, he was overcome with a realization: he loved Cora and he needed to tell her.

Tell her, he urged himself, tell her right now. They had come to a lull in their conversation and he found it nearly impossible to break the silence. Go on, do it. “Cora, I love you,” he said quickly, his voice muffled by his scarf. 

“What did you say, darling?” Her head had been turned away from him and it seemed that she had not heard what he said. 

His heart sank. He willed himself to repeat the words, but they would not come. Evidently, he only had one burst of bravery in him. “I said that I’ve had a lovely afternoon.”

She grinned, apparently unaware of his lie. “Thank you for taking me skating,” she sighed. “I’d forgotten how much fun it is.”

“It was my pleasure. Besides, I can’t wait to go to dinner and tell everyone that I had the privilege to go ice skating with Cora Crawley,” he teased without missing a beat. He would not spoil their day by sulking about his failed confession. There would be enough time for that when he laid awake in bed that night. 

She laughed, a loud boisterous sound that he never heard from Lady Downton. No, that sound only came in stolen moments like this, from Cora. His Cora. That thought was enough to warm him against the chilly December air. He found himself surprisingly heartened as they returned to the lakeshore, exchanging their skates for boots and beginning their walk back to the house. Of course, he wished he had a little more courage to tell her how he felt, but the afternoon had not been a failure by any means. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked and he found himself almost giddy, kissing her forehead. Cora loved him. He loved Cora. And soon, he would tell her.


	3. in a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

Cora fidgeted as Baxter removed the pins from her hair, unable to keep still. She liked her new maid, she really did, but tonight her attention to detail was almost maddening. O’Brien would have known to get Cora undressed as quickly as possible and clear out. It was Robert’s first night home from America and the sooner Baxter left, the sooner they could be alone together. 

Finally, Baxter finished, and she had barely shut the door behind her when Robert came into the room. He must have been waiting just as anxiously as Cora had.

“Hello, you,” she said with a smile. The smile he gave in return was enough to melt all the tension his absence and preparation for the bazaar had caused. 

He took her in his arms immediately. She relaxed into his embrace, humming against his chest. “I missed you,” he sighed, squeezing her more tightly and running his hand along her back.

Neither of them felt any need for a long conversation, or really any words for that matter. They would have time to talk about Harold and her mother and America tomorrow; tonight was just for them. 

As if on cue, Robert brought a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so her lips could meet his. Their kiss was unhurried at first, but as her hands began to roam along his body their sense of urgency grew. His mouth moved to her neck, finding the sensitive spot where it met her shoulder. 

“I imagined this too,” he murmured. A shiver ran down Cora’s spine at the thought. Robert quickly divested himself of his pajamas, then pulled her nightgown over her head and deposited it unceremoniously on the floor. They fell back on the bed together, the reunion they had both been longing for. 

“Was it just as you imagined it?” Cora asked as they caught their breath afterward. 

“Better.” He punctuated his statement with a soft kiss. “You are always so much better than I can imagine, Cor.” After he leaned over to turn off the lamp they moved together, easily finding their usual position. 

Lying next to Robert felt so natural. Instinctive. Her head fit just so in the crook of his neck, the angle perfect for him to kiss the top of her head. Their hands moved in tandem, his to rest against her back and hers to slide across his chest. The steady thrum of his heart under her palm fell easily into sync with the beating in her own chest. She nudged one of her knees between his legs, rubbing her foot gently against his calf. The seemingly endless skin-on-skin contact was intoxicating, and if he were not so exhausted from a long day of traveling, she would have made love to him again. For now, however, she was satisfied just to be near him. 

She was spoiled by nearly thirty years of his soothing proximity, so much so that it became nearly impossible to sleep soundly without it. How countless lords and ladies across Britain denied themselves the pleasure of sleeping next to one another was beyond her. When he was gone she tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position that did not involve him. Waking up proved just as arduous; she always felt unsettled on days that she did not begin lying next to him.

Thankfully, tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight, Robert was with her, running his fingers through the loose curls that tumbled down her bare back. 

“You know,” he murmured, pulling her from her thoughts. “As much as I imagined other parts of our night, what I looked forward to most was sleeping next to you. I can never seem to get a good night’s rest if you’re not with me. Or maybe it was just because the hotel bed was as hard as a rock.”

She smacked him playfully on the chest, but her laughter softened the blow. “You be careful Robert Crawley, or you’ll be sleeping out on the lawn tonight.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he teased. 

She shook her head, kissing his neck, and they both fell silent. It was divine, the complete relaxation she felt in his presence. Cora could feel her eyelids growing heavy, but she didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. 

“Robert?” she whispered into the silence.

“Hmm?” he mumbled. His hand moved up to the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair and massaging her scalp.

“I love you,” she sighed.

“I love too, darling.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Now please, do be quiet, I have rather a lot of sleep to catch up on.”

This time she gave him a well-placed kick to the shin, and her husband’s laughter and the warmth of his fingers in her hair were the last things she knew before she drifted off to sleep.


	4. broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me to stay

The words on the page would not form coherent sentences in Robert's mind. Heart attack. Sudden. Nothing the doctors could do. None of it made sense. Isidore had been at Downton less than a year ago, shortly after Sybil's birth. He had been so full of life then, he and Martha seeming much younger than Robert's mother despite their similar age. Now he was gone.

Carson had given Robert the telegram the moment he returned from an early morning trip to the village. Cora had read it too - it was addressed to her, after all, and she must have passed it on so that it would make its way to him. He thanked Carson and headed to their bedroom, not bothering to remove his hat or jacket; she needed him now.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Robert remembered that he was supposed to leave for London later that afternoon. His meeting in the village had been an important one, and he was due to discuss matters with Murray the next morning. He shook those thoughts from his head, bounding up the stairs and forcing himself to focus on what was in front of him.

He knocked on the door, but did not wait for a response before going in. Cora was pacing back and forth in front of the bed, wringing her hands. He had never seen her pace before. When she turned to look at him, he saw that her sweet blue eyes were rimmed in red.

"He's gone." Her voice was pinched, unnaturally high. She opened her mouth and quickly closed it again.

For a moment Robert was unsure of what to do. Even after several years of marriage, her emotions could be more intense than he knew how to handle, leaving him feeling awkward and inept. He mentally berated himself for worrying about that now. She doesn't need you to be perfect, he told himself, she just needs you to take charge and do what you think is right.

He stepped forward, opening his arms to her. She practically launched herself into them.

Her knees buckled and he quickly wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her up. "I've got you," he murmured into her hair. "I've got you, Cora."

His words seemed to unleash something in her. She began to sob, an almost inhuman noise. Her tears quickly soaked the shoulder of his jacket. He felt her tremble violently in his arms and he maneuvered them so that they were sitting on the bed, her in his lap.

He had never known Cora to cry like this. She had cried many times in the early months of their marriage, silent tears he wasn't meant to notice. Of course, she had wept when Robert lost his own father shortly before Edith was born, but then she seemed to have a keen awareness that she was now the Countess of Grantham and therefore restrained herself. This was completely different. Her body was wracked with sobs, noises that came from deep in her chest, visceral and raw. It seemed as if she were breaking, and the sound of it made Robert break too.

She clung to him as she cried, her arms wound tightly around his neck. He rubbed soothing circles on her back with one hand, the other holding her head to him. Soon her sobs began to lessen until they became pitiful whimpers.

"I feel as if I'm in a dream." Her voice was thick with tears. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I don't think that it's supposed to, my love," he soothed. It had felt the same way when his father died, as if the world were turned on its head. Cora had loved him so tenderly through his grief then and he felt determined to do the same for her now.

She leaned back in his arms so she could look at him. "There's so much to be done. Booking tickets, packing, the girls -" Her voice wavered as she trailed off.

"Shh, you don't have to worry about any of that," he assured her. Pulling the handkerchief from his pocket, he began to wipe the tears from her face. "I'll take care of it all. Have you told the girls?"

"No, I didn't want them to see me like this." Cora winced, as if she were ashamed. "I couldn't see anybody but you."

Robert's heart clenched at the words, and in any other circumstances they would have filled him with warmth. "That's alright, darling, I'll tell them. Mary will be a perfect little lady about it, I'm sure, and Edith will just want to be near you. Sybil is too young to understand any of it."

"I envy her," Cora replied, and at her words tears formed in her eyes again. Robert cupped her face in both hands, stroking a thumb against her cheek.

"You're supposed to go to London," she said suddenly. Fear flashed across her face and she grabbed his wrist roughly, squeezing almost to the point of pain. "Please don't go."

"Of course I'm not going," he replied, realizing he had made that decision the moment he saw her. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. "I'm not going anywhere."

She relaxed visibly and her grip eased, although she still held onto his wrist. "I love you. Everything that's about to come - I couldn't do it without you."

"You won't have to." Her face seemed so small and fragile in his hands, and she looked as if she had been awake for days rather than a few hours. "Have you eaten today, my love?"

"No, Walker brought in the telegram with breakfast and I could hardly bear to look at the food."

Robert did his best to look stern, although that was nearly impossible when it came to his wife. "You have to eat, Cora. How about this? I'll go to the nursery and talk to the girls, then I'll bring them in here and we can all eat luncheon together."

Cora nodded. She seemed to have more composure now, her tears replaced with an occasional sniffle. He figured it would be all right to leave her alone for a few minutes while he got the girls and told Carson to have their meal brought to Cora's room. Yet as he moved to slide her off his lap, she kept her grip on his wrist.

"Please Robert, not yet," she pleaded, her eyes dark. "Please hold me for a little while longer."

He could never say no to her, especially not now, so he took her into his arms once again. Cora pressed her forehead against his chest, eyes closed and breathing deeply. She was trying to ground herself, he knew, and he rested his chin on top of her head, hoping the additional point of contact would help tie her to the present. He rocked her gently, comforting her as he had seen her comfort their daughters so many times.

Robert had the fleeting thought that he would have to call Murray to reschedule their meeting, but that hardly registered on the list of things that were important to him now. No, the only thing that mattered in this moment was that he held his wife in his arms and, as he'd told her previously, he wasn't going anywhere.


	5. when broken glass litters the floor

Where is he? Cora wondered for the umpteenth time since getting into bed that night. She tossed down the novel she had been struggling to focus on. It had been nearly three quarters of an hour since she left the drawing room, but Robert had still not come to bed, nor had she heard any movement in his dressing room. On a normal night she would have chalked it up to a little restlessness on his part and gone to sleep, safe in the knowledge that he would come to bed eventually. However, from the way Robert had sat quietly at dinner, pushing his food around the plate, Cora knew this was not a normal night.

Robert had seemed to readjust well to life at Downton after his tour in Africa. Aside from a minor shoulder wound that healed quickly, he was physically unharmed. The estate kept him busy, and he spent most of his days taking care of all of the matters that had been neglected while he was away. When he wasn't working, he was making up for lost time with his family, playing with the girls in the nursery or taking Cora on leisurely strolls through the garden. Yet there were some days when he wasn't quite himself. He withdrew inward, shutting himself in the library for most of the day. Some nights he awoke shouting from a nightmare, unable to sleep again until he took a walk around the house. Cora did her best to soothe him, to crack the hard shell she had come to know as part of him in the months since his return, but he seemed to keep her at arm's length. Of course, he was never cruel or overly distant, but there was just enough space between them to make Cora worry. He was holding back, she knew, but she could not tell exactly what.

After listening to the clock tick for another five minutes Cora could take it no longer. She pushed the duvet back and climbed out of bed. Pulling on her dressing gown and stepping into her slippers, she slipped quietly out of her room. If Robert wouldn't come to bed, she would go to him.

She wasn't sure exactly where he would be but figured she should start looking in the last place she had seen him. Muscle memory took her through the hallway, as she had little more than moonlight to guide her. The scene she found when she entered the drawing room sent a chill down her spine. Robert stood alone at the table by the drinks cabinet, his back to the room. He was leaning forward slightly, one hand clutching table. She knew he held a glass in his other hand. Only one of the lamps remained lit, casting eerie shadows around the room.

"Robert?" she called softly, not wanting to startle him. He did not give any indication that he heard her, so she took a few steps into the room and tried again. "Darling, are you alright?"

Still nothing. Concern gnawing at her stomach, Cora continued moving toward him, hoping that the sound of her footsteps would alert him to her presence. When she was close enough to touch him, she reached out a hand, placing it gently on his shoulder.

Robert jumped, a grunt of surprise escaping his lips. The glass he held slipped out of his grip, hitting the corner of the table and shattering. Cora yelped, backing away from the broken glass. When Robert turned his eyes were clouded with confusion, and for a split second it seemed as if he did not recognize her. He snapped back into reality quickly though, gazing at the mess he had made and then back at her.

"Cora?" His voice wavered and for a moment she wondered if he was going to cry. "What are you doing here? Are you hurt?"

Cora shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm alright, I think it all went on the floor." She swallowed again, inhaling deeply to steady herself. "When you didn't come to bed I got worried."

He glanced away, clearly avoiding her gaze. "I knew I wouldn't sleep, and I didn't want to keep you awake with my tossing and turning."

"So you decided staying up all night and drinking alone was a better option?" She crossed her arms across her chest, furrowing her brow.

"Cora please," he sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to fight with you tonight."

She softened at his words. Even in the low light, she could see he was exhausted. "I don't want to fight either, darling, but I'm worried about you." Pausing for a moment, she considered her next words carefully. "I've been worried about you for quite a while."

"Oh, there's no need for that," he said, his voice taking on a false levity. "I've just had a bit of trouble sleeping lately. Not used to such a soft bed after months of a cot, I suppose."

He was lying and she knew it. "Robert don't do this with me. You haven't been yourself for months and you know just as well as I do it has nothing to with a bed."

Robert deflated visibly, his shoulders slouching. "That's just the thing," he murmured. "I'm afraid I'm not myself anymore."

"What do you mean by that?" she coaxed. Part of her wanted to stop the conversation right now, to take Robert to bed and hold him, to spare him the pain of whatever he was about to say next. She reached out her hand to him, hoping that her touch could soothe him.

He took her hand, stepping over the glass on the floor so that they stood only a few inches apart. Their proximity forced him to look at her now, and she saw something in his eyes she did not recognize. "I'm not the same man I was before the war. There are some days when I can't keep all of the horrible things I've seen out of my mind. I feel overwhelmed, as if it's all about to come spilling out of me." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't want to bring that ugliness into our home. You and the girls deserve to be spared from all of that."

"I won't fault you for trying to shield our daughters, but there is nothing in this world you need to hide from me." She brought her free hand to his cheek. "I'm not naive, Robert. I didn't expect you to come back from a war unchanged. I can't say I'm the same woman I was before you left, either. But you can't keep pushing me away. This burden isn't yours to bear alone, you have to let me help carry some of it."

To her surprise, Robert let out a sob. Cora took him easily into her arms, guiding his head down to rest against her shoulder. Running her fingers through her hair, she raked her nails against his scalp in a way she knew would comfort him. She let him cry himself out into her dressing gown, shushing him gently but not making any real effort to stop his tears. He needed this release.

"I love you, Robert," she said as he began to quiet. "I love you just as you are now."

His arms tightened around her. "Thank God for you." When he looked up at her, his eyes were clearer than they had been all day, perhaps in months.

"We'll be alright," she whispered, butting her forehead against his for a moment. The words were just as much for her as they were for him. Wriggling out of his embrace, she took him by the hand and began leading him out of the drawing room. "Now come on sweetheart, let's go to bed."


	6. as we huddle together, the storm raging outside

As another crack of lightning struck somewhere in the distance, Cora jumped, dropping a stitch on her embroidery and piercing the skin of her thumb with the needle. She uttered a word she was glad no one was around to hear, taking the offending digit into her mouth. Even after nearly forty years in this house, the absolute racket a thunderstorm could create here still took her by surprise. Of course, there were storms in America, but Cora had grown up hearing the thunder and lightning muffled by the sounds of a city. There was nothing to dampen the noise in the seclusion of the English countryside.

When Cora heard the door to the library creak open, she quickly took her thumb out of her mouth and set down her embroidery. Robert came into the room carrying Caroline on his hip, their nearly three-year-old granddaughter sniffling and clutching her arms tightly around his neck. Cora raised an eyebrow, glancing at Caroline and then back at Robert.

"I heard her crying when I walked past the nursery, she's frightened by the storm," he explained. "So I told Nanny to give her to me and she can have her nap in here with us. It's much safer with Granny and Donk, isn't it, Caroline?" Caroline nodded against his neck.

"Mary won't like that," Cora sighed, but already she was holding her arms out so Robert would give Caroline to her. She took the trembling little girl onto her lap, smoothing a hand over her hair. Caroline immediately wrapped her arms around Cora's middle.

"Good thing she'll be in the village all afternoon," Robert shrugged, looking unconcerned. "What Mary doesn't know won't hurt us."

Cora laughed at that, a warmth spreading in her chest. Robert was a wonderful father to their daughters, but he had grown even softer as a grandfather. From the moment he let Sybbie christen him "Donk", Cora knew that he was wrapped around his grandchildren's fingers, and he only became more enamored with all of them as time went on. Watching him love their grandchildren only made her love him more, something she hadn't known was possible.

"What do you think Caroline, should we read a story to help you sleep?" Robert asked, squatting next to the settee so he was at eye-level with their granddaughter. She nodded again. "What shall we read?"

She considered his question for a moment before allowing a small smile to cross her face. "The Rabbit," she replied shyly. Caroline was more reserved than George had been at her age, but she was already proving to be very intelligent. Cora could tell by the way her big brown eyes intently observed everything around her that the little girl did not miss a thing.

"The Velveteen Rabbit!" Robert exclaimed. Of course, he already knew what her choice would be; he had read it to her at least a dozen times. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He stood up, walking over to the children's shelf to look for the book in question.

Just then another rumble of thunder echoed through the house, even louder than before. The storm must have been moving closer. Caroline tightened her hold, whimpering quietly. "You're alright, darling," Cora soothed, running a hand up and down Caroline's back. "You know, I don't like storms either, but they're really not so bad."

"Especially when you have Granny's arms around you," Robert called from the bookshelf. Cora snorted, making Caroline giggle. "Ah, here it is!"

He pulled the book from its place on the shelf, coming back to join them on the settee. One of his arms snaked around Cora's shoulder, the other holding up the book so Caroline could see the illustrations. "Are we comfortable, ladies?" They both nodded their assent, Cora giving Caroline a squeeze.

"There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen." Robert began, his voice soft. "On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming."

Caroline was asleep halfway through the story, her breath gradually slowing until she finally went limp in Cora's arms. Robert continued reading anyway, wanting to ensure that she remained asleep. His voice was so comforting that Cora found her own eyelids growing heavy, but she resisted the urge to close them. She wanted to soak up this moment. With her husband's arm around her and her granddaughter dozing against her chest, she felt completely surrounded by love.

"But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real." Robert finally finished, closing the book and setting it on the end table next to him.

"Another excellent reading, my love," Cora whispered, leaning slightly to press her cheek against his.

"I hardly need the book anymore," he replied. She could feel him smiling against her skin. "I expect I'll have it memorized soon."

"I don't doubt that." She paused, enjoying the quiet for a moment. "I love you."

"I love you too, Cor," he responded easily, his words conveying all the warmth and affection she was already feeling.

They passed the next hour alternating between hushed conversations and comfortable silence. Caroline slept soundly, not stirring even as the storm raged on outside. Cora could not think of a better, more peaceful way to spend an afternoon. Perhaps thunderstorms weren't so bad after all.


End file.
